th l5t li3
by Lunaurora
Summary: When James is involved in a near-fatal accident, he walks away with more than just a bump on the head. But while he slips further into darkness, Jessie and Meowth are involved in a scandel none would believe... :: Prologue and first chapter posted ::
1. prolgu3

After a near-death experience in a car crash, James miraculously walks away from it all without any severe injuries : not counting a rather nasty and deep scar on his forehead. As he finds out in hospital, as lucky as he is, some things aren't as simple as they look.  
  
But while James slips deeper and deeper into darkness, Jessie and Meowth become involved in a scandal that none of them could ever believe.  
  
:: Rating :: PG-13 (or M15+ for us Aussies), for language... yes, language... and I dunno...  
  
:: Category :: Drama / Suspense.  
  
The title reads : "The Last Lie", in case yo'ure wondering. I just wanted to be different =^-'= - I stole the idea from Linkin Park's, 'Reanimation'. Go me.  
  
'You're It' is giving me some serious Writer's Block... which I've prolly mentioned below. I've had this idea lingering in the back of my head. And who cares if it's cliched? It's my turn.  
----  
The office was dark. Darker than most felt comfortable in. Two men were present in the particular room - at least, to their knowledge. One was wearing a sleek, crimson Italian-style suit and a sly smirk across his lips as he sat behind his ebony desk. He was shrowded in shadows of all shades, making his appearance obscure. The much younger man wore the standard Team Rocket : White Division uniform. His features were also unrecognisable by the black.  
  
"You do realize that this has been kept a secret for more than a lifetime?" the man in the suit spoke up. His voice itself was dark.  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"I trust you. That's why I've chosen you for this assignment. You have a password. You're the only one who has it - not even me, for I trust you more than I trust myself. It is vital for the safety and well being of Team Rocket."  
  
"I know, sir."  
  
"If you even think of betraying me, I'll kill you slowly. I will target everything and everyone who you love. Starting with those precious partners of yours."  
  
The second man didn't flinch. His expression remained neutral though the issue concerning his colleagues was a personal matter. Normally, he would bow his head in shame, but it was up to him to maintain their... existences.  
  
"I understand, sir."  
  
He turned to leave the private quarters, when his 'Boss' called to him.  
  
"And for Christ's sake, don't forget the damn thing."  
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.:::::::::::::::: th l@5t li3 : [prolgu3 ::::::::::::::::.  
  
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It was a rather noisy spring night that evening. With the milk-white moon hanging overhead, the highway between Vermillion and Veridian was highly congested, a traffic-jam of cars were caught in speeds as slow as 5km/hr going northbound. Swarms of Zubat sped above them almost teasingly, casting shadows of their lithe shilouettes across the bonnets of road-rage-striken people's vehicles.  
  
Police were directing traffic uneasily at the cause of the chaos.  
  
A five car prang.  
  
It didn't seem like much when you hear about them over the radio, but when the concept involved being late home, then that was definitely a different matter.  
  
For most people, this was the case.  
  
One car in particular had just made it's way out of the predicament and back on the road it home. It was a stylish, red convertible with it's black hood up. It cruised along the outside lane, with it's one-of-a-kind number plate: bitchy.  
  
But it's occupant definitely wasn't the Christina Agruilera lookalike you'd expect. Instead, there sat a young, handsome man content on borrowing his partner's car for a day. Even if it was for work. He had a mop of floppy azure hair that was tied back in a ponytail, leaving thick locks of hair out to frame his chiseled face, complementing his gorgeous, emerald green eyes. The sleeves of his uniform were rolled up and his gloves discarded on the dashboard, underneath the Maneki Meowth ornament that his partner believed would bring money and good luck. A black shirt underneath his white overshirt showed off his lean body. He wore loose-fitting white pants over a pair of black boots that tapped to the beat of the music that was blaring out of the speakers.  
  
The radio was set on 99.6FM, or HotFM, as everyone knew it as. Bodyjar's 'One in a Million' was turned up as loud as possible since there was no screaming scratch cat in the back seat telling him to switch the rachet off completely.  
  
"Sometimes when I'm drivin' in my car, I wish that you could take the wheel..." he sang along, concentrating more on the song than the slightly congested road, "... but you're not there, it's so un-"  
  
Suddenly he heard a faint ringing from the dashboard. It was almost undetectable, beeping crazily under the loud music. He blinked in surprise - but it was probably his partner, he concluded to himself after a couple of seconds. He quickly turned the volume dial on the radio as far as it would go and picked up the phone.  
  
"Hello? Bona fide sex god speaking." He sang into the reciever in his loving way. After all, she _was_ his partner, and who would blame him for being such a bloody flirt...  
  
But the voice that replied _definitely_ wasn't the person he was expecting. "Jimmy?! Youse was supposed to be 'ere half an hour ago!" He held the phone away from his ear, upon hearing the scratch cat screech at him.  
  
"Meowth?"  
  
"No shit it's Me-owth."  
  
James rolled his eyes at the response. He held it back up to his ear again and reached for the McDonalds kid-sized Sprite sitting in the drink holder. After gulping down a couple of mouthfuls, he set it back down and spoke again.  
  
"Lovely, now can I speak to Jess?"  
  
"Whaddeva..."  
  
The cat obviously wasn't in the best of moods as he called for his comrade to get her 'scrawny ass over to da phone before I Fury-Swipe ya inta oblivion'. There was a crash of something or other in the background and a 'move it, you oversized hairball' before someone else's voice rang in his ears.  
  
"Is that you, James?"  
  
James smiled to himself.  
  
"Yeah," he verified, his voice sweet and suyrupy. 'Just the way she likes it...' he thought to himself, his smile quickly becoming a wide grin.  
  
"Where's my car?"  
  
"What?!"  
  
"That car was my bloody birthday present!"  
  
"From me!"  
  
"So?"  
  
"So what?"  
  
"It's still _my_ car, numbnuts!"  
  
"Er..."  
  
James frowned. Her car was currently doing a casual one hundred and ten kilometres per hour over the Veridian Bridge.  
  
"Hey, is that Bodyjar I can hear?" His grimace disappeared at Jessie's sudden change of mood. Instead, he smiled warmly. He hadn't realized the song was still audible.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Turn it up, will'ya?"  
  
With a quick 'sure', he turned the volume dial again and let it drift away in the background.  
  
"I love this song," he heard Jessie comment happily.  
  
He laughed. "Remind me to buy you the single, okay?"  
  
"Listen - make sure you don't trash my damn car."  
  
"Why would I? I'm the one who bought it."  
  
Jessie giggled in reply. God, he loved her so much. If only he could see her right now... Stumbling in his thoughts, James accidently knocked over his Sprite.  
  
He groaned and muttered something incoherant under his breath. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a stray Zubat flew like a bolt of lightning in front of him, skimming the tips of it's wings along the bonnet of the convertible. He cried out in surprise and let go of his mobile to grasp the steering wheels with both hands.  
  
"James? James? What the hell happened?" Jessie's voice squeaked from the phone.  
  
It all happened in the blink of an eye. He was so near to home, too.  
  
The car swerved into the right lane and back again, leaving skid marks along the bitumen highway. He narrowly missed a rusted, blue ute, making the owner beep his horn repeatedly. Although the wandering Zubat was out of the way, James had lost full control of the car.  
  
It sped off the road in its owner's futile attempts of gaining power and crashed through the barrier lining the bridge before leaping onto the road travelling eastward below. At the time, they were making their way under the bridge. It slid across a couple of lanes and rammed itself into one of the many lightposts that lined the highway.  
  
James blinked a couple of times to get rid of his surprise. He was sure that he was bleeding. He could feel it on his forehead. But he could also feel that it wasn't all that serious. He guessed he had just hit himself on the steering wheel.  
  
Yeah - that's it.  
  
He wasn't gonna die. He was going to be alright.  
  
Bodyjar pounded away in his ears. He listened to the last repeat of the chorus and sang along weakly, mostly in reassurance. His eyes desperately scanned the floor in search of his mobile.  
  
"They told me to breath, they told me to lie down ... I figured it out, you're one in a million..."  
  
It wasn't there. It probally slid under the passenger seat or something. He'd just wait for someone to get him out of there, first. He suddenly felt drowsy.  
  
Red blood stained his already slight vision as he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness...  
----  
A wierd ending to the prologue of my little drama... thing, but hey, if you don't like it, you can always complain about it. Anyhow, I'll also post chapter one up as well so you don't have to be left with the insane idea that James' gonna die.  
  
He's not, silly. Whatever gave you that idea? Well, the whole thing is like a two in one story. Two ideas merged together... You'll see in Chapter One.  
  
Oh - and 'One in a Million'? That kickass song belongs to Bodyjar [from the album 'Plastic Skies'] and they belong to themselves unless, of course, they're slaves of the underworld under the control of Satan. Which is a simply silly thought that only people like me think... oh dear.  
  
Go ahead... steal Jessie's number plate, why don'cha? It only took me a day and a half to figure out by myself...  
  
: Dstny Fx 


	2. 1 : smplc ty

Ho hum... Another chapter. Only a few things grow on me - I guess this is one of them. Which is good if you've enjoyed the story so far. The chapter's in this story aren't going to be as long as the one's in 'You're It', [thank God!] they're much shorter, so each chapter will be written a whole lot faster.  
  
The title of this chapter reads: Simplicity.  
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.:::::::::::::::: th l@5t li3 : smp]c!ty ::::::::::::::::.  
  
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His eyes were bloodshot. He could feel the pain instantly as light seeped into his blurred vision. Everything seemed to hurt like a thousand silver blades striking every inch of his body. The worried face of a nurse hovered above his own for a second or two.  
  
Most of his pain seemed to be concentrated on one area. He grabbed slowly for his hip, blood oozing through the profusely bleeding wound and between his sore fingers, staining the fingernails a deep red. One surgeon swatted his hand away from his injured side and quickly went back to work. Nurses and doctors busied around him above the sound of the humming computers.  
  
The heart rate moniter beeped away in his ears. His senses felt new, as if he were using them for the first time. It confused him.  
  
All the sounds...  
  
His fogged vision glancing around unfamiliar territory...  
  
The feeling of soft, white sheets at his blooded hands...  
  
Hospital smells...  
  
The taste of blood building up in his mouth...  
  
Then it struck him. Why was he here? A million and one questions flooded his mind, each producing the same, strained answer.  
  
I don't know...  
  
It echoed on and on... and on... He couldn't do anything, just lay there and take the pain. All his adrenaline rushed to his head and he winced at the oncoming pain. Just take it... take it... Hold on... on... It'll be fine... The words pounded on. More and more thoughts crossed his mind, but no one answered.  
  
Everything was blank.  
  
He couldn't remember a thing.  
  
Not even his name...  
..:: ::..  
The girl, about nineteen years of age, wore a simple black tank top that exposed an impressive midriff and a pair of baggy flares over some ratty, denim blue and white Fetish joggers, but managed to make the plain clothes look like catwalk material. At about 5'8", she was slender, with long scarlet hair tied up in a silky, but messily done-up ponytail. A few strands fell out of place, framing a pretty, heart-shaped face that would've looked more attractive if she didn't look like something had disemboweled itself right in front of her.  
  
Her cat's blue eyes darted this way and that, seating herself in a nearby jet-black chair. She was a bit more than uncomfortable about being in a public area and dressed like someone from the aftermath of a rock concert. It was actually a mix of her uniform and casual clothing. Sick people lined the walls of the hospital waiting room, but as much as she feared contracting some fatal disease, she had a friend to attend to.  
  
She growled from behind clenched teeth as a family with about five kids (at least that's what she thought) entered the room. Children annoyed her. Full stop. If she ever did have any it wouldn't be any more than one or two. She picked up a random Women's Weekly (at least three years old, mind you) from the pile of magazines on the coffee table to make her attention look so unnoticable. She flipped though the pages casually and pretended to read any random, old article in her nervousness.  
  
"Hi lady. What's your name?"  
  
It came from no where, really.  
  
She blinked in surprise and set the magazine onto her lap. Surely enough, there was one of the bratty things sitting in the seat next to her. Cute as she was, her presense was unwanted. Her blonde hair was done up in two long, curly pigtails. The girl had bright blue eyes and a huge shark-like grin plastered on her face. There was something about her that reminded her of that Sailor Moon chick. She wore a pastel blue and pink sundress, to match her shoes.  
  
"Jessie," she mumbled immediately upon instinct, but stopped herself. 'Damn!' she mentally scolded herself, 'You don't tell a five year old twerp what your name is!' She folded her arms. "Don't you have a family to run off to?" Jessie cast a glance over at the large group of people who were unaware they were missing someone.  
  
"Yeah... but they're really boring. My little brother's really sick. Mum says he isn't coming home for a long time - and that's why we're gonna visit him," the girl replied. She smiled, obviously ecstatic. "My name's Bridie."  
  
"Heh... I'm sure it is, too..." Jessie said uneasily and bit her bottom lip. She tried hard to focus on the cover of the magazine. Jennifer Aniston. 'Jennifer Aniston, Jessie, focus on her. Her with that Brad Pitt person... they're engaged, right? Or something, anyway...'  
  
A couple of seconds ticked by. "You're really pretty," Bridie remarked. Jessie suddenly stiffened uncomfortably.  
  
"Why... thank you." She blushed. 'It really couldn't get any worse than this...' she thought to herself. She focused her attention hastily on the reception desk.  
  
"And my brother thinks you're really really hot," was suddenly blurted out without any hints of regret. The crimson hue that had already found itself covering her cheeks, deepend.  
  
Jessie blinked rapidly a few more times. "Your brother?!" Bridie pointed at the huge mass of people accuulating itself at the door.  
  
She leant over the Women's Weekly slightly to peer around an old woman in a walking frame, and at the huge family. Sure enough, there was a young man about her age with chestnut brown hair, covering everything until the bridge of his nose, and in serious need of a haircut. Under his arm, he had slung a guitar. He waved to her, his unbelievably baggy clothes swayed with his movement, and winked in a very inappropriate way. Jessie smiled sheepishly and waved back in return.  
  
"He says that if you ever need a boyfriend, he'd definitely oblige." There's that kid again. Jessie had almost forgotten she was there. The miniscule ... thing giggled happily in her seat and rocked back and forth.  
  
"Er-"  
  
"I wish I were as pretty as you," Bridie chortled, almost to herself, since Jessie's vision was focused on a wall. Then she pouted miserably. "Then maybe the guys at school won't be so mean."  
  
Jessie swallowed, twisted back around to her and put and hand on the little girl's petite shoulder. "But you _are_ pretty."  
  
Bridie's face lit up like a Christmas tree. She had stopped rocking and was watching the older girl attentively. "Really? You really think so?"  
  
"Yeah." Jessie felt herself becoming slightly more secure around the blonde girl.  
  
In one split second, Bridie had launched herself from her seat and into Jessie's lap. Her arms had wrapped themselves around her torso, hugging the young woman tightly. "Oh, thank you!"  
  
"Jessie! Hey, Jess!" a very familiar voice with a noticable Brooklyn accent rang through the room. Jessie smiled to herself and without hesitation, pushed Bridie back into her seat.  
  
She turned to her after standing up a bit too quickly. "Listen, kid. I gotta go. I'll see you around, 'kay?"  
  
There was no missing the dismay on the little girl's features. But, she mustered up her composure and replied. "Okay."  
  
Jessie flashed her a grin and spun around to see a ridiculously short figure strolling up and down the isles of people, despite the looks he was getting. She called above the talking of patients and family alike. "Hey, Meowth! Over here!"  
  
The smaller-than-your-average 'person' looked up and walked over to her with an annoyed expression across his face. "Took ya time to notice, didn't ya?" he chided her, but pushed the matter aside. "Anyways, I've found Jim."  
  
'Meowth'? You wouldn't know whether to describe him as a person or a cat. Actually, he was a Pokémon. A smart and cunning one at that. With a cat- like body, many would rather think of him as that, but once he opened his mouth, they usually kept their comments to themselves. He could talk, unlike any other creature of his kind. His cute, creamy face was adorn with a golden koban on his forehead, between a couple of grey-black ears. Whiskers long and navy-blue eyes wide, he rathered to stand on his own two legs. Literally. At the time, he was wearing a treachcoat [supposedly disguised as a person] - though, it didn't help concealing his identity, being a mere 1'4".  
  
"Really?" Jessie seemed skeptical.  
  
"Well, if I didn't, den why exactly would Me-owth be here?"  
  
"Then, where is he?"  
  
Meowth peered down at a small slip of paper he clutched in his minute, scruffy paw. "Room... B3." He looked up at her again and frowned. "Da doctor said dat we're more dan welcome ta come in."  
  
Jessie gave him a sour look. "You let them see you? You were supposed to go in and back out unnoticed!" Then she mumbled under her breath: "Stupid cat..."  
  
"Actually, dey caught me," he replied knowingly, crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly. He didn't seem to catch her discreet murmur, "and I told 'em why we're here."  
  
"But is James okay!?" she demanded, causing a couple of dirty looks on her part. The scratch-cat thought he held just a swell of fear in her voice, just for a second, but he swatted the thought away.  
  
He sighed. Probably with annoyance, but mostly pity for the girl. "He's okay. Just unconscious."  
  
"Jeez..." Jessie started but stopped herself when her eyes fell upon a mother smothering her son's ears with her hands in fear that the redhead would curse openly in a public area, "... sugar... honey... ice... and tea..." She repressed her anger and turned back to Meowth, narrowing her eyes at him. "Can we see him?"  
  
He smirked up at her and replied: "Isn't dat why I came out 'ere?"  
  
"Then what are we waiting for?" she remarked. She began to half jog across the waiting room before stopping and throwing a glance at her furry partner. "Com'on."  
.:: ::.  
The doctor, who was currently standing in the dooring, scratched the back of his neck as he looked over the bed-ridden patient and blocked the view of the visitors with him. He was a bald, African man in his late twenties at a height of 6 foot 3. His white coat was neat and had a name tag attached that read "Raymond Ford" in bold text. An anxious young, red- haired woman stood behind him with a small white cat in her arms.  
  
He stared her up and down skeptically before asking: "Are you sure you're his sister?"  
  
The woman's eyes avioded his own briefly. "How couldn't I be? Anyway this is supposed to be an emergency," she replied, as honestly as she could, giving the doctor no room to argue.  
  
Sighing, he took a glance at the clipboard in his hand. "Your 'brother' has a deep gash across his forehead, caused by the accident and..." She watched his eyes skim-read the piece of paper clipped onto it, "... amnesia."  
  
She frowned at him. He had to be kidding! James isn't susceptible to things like that... "Amnesia?" she snapped angrily. The cat stirred slightly.  
  
"We don't know for sure if it's only temporary, but there's a ninety-five percent chance of it being so - therefore, we're sure it isn't permanent," he imformed her. "I recommend you try to bring back his memory by talking about his past. Stuff like that. It's something that no nurse or surgeon here can carry out, but if it has some chance of happening, you can do it."  
  
Cursing under her breath, she pounded her fist against the wall in frustration. "Can I see him?" she asked politely through gritted teeth upon length.  
  
With a gesture, the doctor stood aside and allowed her to enter the room. She stormed past him as he closed the door behind her gently. Her expression quickly softened as her eyes fell over her partner. He was laying on a maternal-style bed with his head bandaged heavily and dressed in a green hospital smock.  
  
Mostly to herself, she smiled, thankful that the damage wasn't too bad. The cat who had long snuggled deeper into her hold looked up at her. "Hey Jess, are youse okay?"  
  
Jessie ignored him and set him down onto a nearby table. Only the ticking of a clock hung on the wall sounded before she knelt down at his side. "Oh, James," she sighed wistfully and took his hands into her own. "I can't believe they did this to you..."  
  
James stirred in his sleep at the sudden noise, turned his head and squinted uncomfortably to the source of noise. "Huh? Are you another doctor?"  
  
She frowned and looked into his opening green eyes. "It's me. Jessie. You do remember, don't you?" Meowth leapt onto the bed and watched them, eyes darting this way and that.  
  
James bit his lower lip. "No... I..." he whimpered. "I don't remember anything. Why don't I remember?"  
  
Resisting her urge to smack him over the head in frustration, she took a couple of heavy breaths. After a couple of seconds, she decided to explain the situation to him. "You were in a car accident."  
  
"A car accident?"  
  
"Yeah," she replied half-heartedly and dropped her glance to the floor.  
  
Meowth sideglanced curiously at Jessie, then turned his gaze at James. "Are ya sure ya can't rememba? Jim?" His navy blue eyes, once filled with hope, now only contained disappointment. He patted Jessie on the back as she held back a few tears.  
  
"Jim? My name's Jim, is it?" James replied, completely ignoring the question. She tried desperately not to gain eye contact with the young man.  
  
"No... it's James..."  
  
"James...?"  
  
The cat sat at his side gingerly, almost afraid of him - but if he wanted the old James back, he'd have to do _something_. "Yeah," he murmured, "dat's it."  
  
James leant towards Jessie despite his bandaged hip and grasped her hands in his. She stared back into his jade eyes and smiled. "Jessie," he whispered.  
  
"Yes," she replied almost unaudibly.  
  
A blush crossed his face. "Are we...y'know," he asked nervously, "...together?"  
  
Jessie's cheeks matched his perfectly. "No, we're not." He squeezed her hands affectionately and she sighed. "I... I... Never mind." Meowth's faint smile of hope lingered, not noticed by either of the humans at his side.  
----  
First chapter down... Hopefully, you will review, right? You don't hafta, but I'll be eternally grateful [considering 'Caught in the Rain' only got one review - consisting of a whole two words, mind you. Thanks, MixMaster!]...  
  
:)  
  
: Dstny Fx. 


	3. 2 : confs10n

I'm sorry about the delay. My computer broke down and I lost every single one of my files… including the original chapter two. Silly me. And we all know how slow I type… I've also decided to change my titles so they look cooler – even though they probably won't show. 

**** Ŧħę Ľąŝŧ Łĭë : ****Čŏņƒũşīǿń**** ********

His glances at her were short ones, but his eyes remained focus mainly on the peach wallpaper that was peeling in some places. He hated this hospital. It was too… too… He couldn't think of the word… It also smelt like medicine. The young woman sitting by his side bit her lower lip, sensing strawberry lip-gloss, mixed the bubbly aftertaste of cheap cola. She was irritated to see him like this, almost as much as it scared her. Shuddering at the single thought, she decided to try again to claim his attention.

"… Umm… Would you like some coffee? James?" she murmured discreetly, but he knew the question was aimed at him.

His usually neatly groomed hair was in a tangled mess that clouded parts of his ghostly, pale face. And he was still dressed in that hideous hospital gown. His mind was too flooded with confusing thoughts, to worry about nonsensical needs such as coffee. As far as he knew, these contemplations meant nothing.

With a slight growl, the woman kept her temper in check for once and leant over to place a single hand on his knee. His confused, but piercing gaze met hers. She sucked in a great deal of air, and exhaled loudly, composing herself. 

"Coffee…"

It was as though she was talking to him in Swahili. Now she truly knew the meaning of pointless. But, this single obstacle won't get in her way.

Despite her oncoming wave of prospect, she scowled viciously. 

"Coffee!" she yelled, evening standing up to state her point even more. He jumped in his seat slightly, and focused completely on her icily blue glare. "Do you want some fucking coffee?!" 

Her outburst also shocked a nurse who was passing by at the time with a trolley, carrying medicine. A couple of glass flasks fell, shattering on the floor and spilling their liquid contents across the blue, hospital tiles. 

James' reply was hesitant, but clear. 

"No… thank you…?"

Jessie exhaled a ragged breath, but sat down once again on the edge of the hospital bed. Her long legs folded themselves against her chest and she wrapped her arms around them, laying her head down, tired. 

"… God…" she sighed.

James could only look over her in worry at the display of frustration. According to the doctor, she was supposed to be assisting him in acquiring his memory. He resisted the urge to shout back at her and frowned. 

As she continued to fume beneath her breath, she failed to notice that the young man beside her had slipped out into the corridor. When she looked up to talk to him, she figured the last thing he wanted was confusion, and held back a couple of solemn tears. 

James' footsteps sounded sharply on the linoleum floor. He had long changed out of the plastic-like hospital gown and into a pair of cargo pants, dirty joggers and an oversized teal and navy blue jersey, all of which were brought to his room that morning in a box bearing 'JAMES' in red permanent marker. 

God… He didn't even know for sure if his own name _was_ James. 

He licked his drying lips and swept a hand across the poorly papered wall gingerly. 

_If only…_

The two words pounded on over and over again in his brain until another mixed with them.

_If only… What?_

He didn't have many of them, but if he still had his memory, he'd have at least one 'if only'. 

_If only… I didn't get amnesia… _

Certain memories were still present. Like, that it was the year 2056. And that there were more Pokemon in the world than Hallmark has greeting cards. Also, that the Cinnabar Tentacruels were the reigning champions of Kanto football, and the Goldenrod Tyrannitaurs were at the Johto soccer ladder. 

He wondered about his social life. 

Well, he was sure about very few things…

Like, that his name was James and he had two friends: a smart-talking Meowth that happened to be able to talk and a pretty girl by the name of Jessica, but would rather to be called Jessie.

And… that was the extent of it. He didn't even know how old he was… Or what he looked like. 

In the corner of his eye, he spotted the men's toilets. He smiled. It was almost as if it were a fluke. Pushing the door open unsurely, he took a quick glance around. The sea blue tiles seemed to jump out of the walls and seize him into their underwater grotto. He wanted to run, for God knows what reason, but he kept his ground and uneasily stumbled towards one of five basins. 

It was… Well, it definitely wasn't what he expected.

His mental image of himself was a short, wimpy-looking, geek of a person who was currently wearing contact lenses instead of the usual thick-rimmed glasses and a mop of brown hair. It went with the voice…

But instead… There stood the exact opposite… A handsome guy with a smile that would make cheering fan-girls melt at the knees, with gorgeous jade-green eyes and azure hair… He ran a hand consciously through his knotted hair, raking out the tangles with his fingers. 

He decided that he looked more like a pretty boy model than the surfing superstar babe magnet he wanted. At least he wasn't fat – he was far from it. His clothing hung to his lean torso, showing it off proudly. He smiled charismatically. Who wouldn't want _him?_

His thoughts drifted back to the attractive redhead sitting in his room. Even though his heart somehow leapt at the fact that she happened to be a close friend, he quickly found that she wasn't drooling over him on their first encounter. Besides, with a beautiful face and elegant body like that, it didn't seem to surprise him that she might even have a… a…

"Boyfriend," he sighed to himself. The colour of green filled his senses and seething jealousy quickly took over, but didn't seem to pin on why. 

Maybe he was… No – he couldn't be. He didn't love her, did he?

No… Well, maybe…

He sighed roughly and leant with his hands pressed against the white bench and his head bowed. "Shit," he murmured. He let out a cry of frustration and kicked a paper towel bin, sending it across the tiled floor and into one of the stalls without spilling its contents. 

"God… Just get this over with already…" the cat in the corner heard her say quietly. For the first time in his nine lives, he felt genuine sorrow for her, instead of his usual mock-pity. 

Jessie mumbled incoherently under her breath. Namely cusses in no particular order. Her face was pressed hard into the palms of her hands and sweat rolled between her fingers. 

Memories flooded in from… everywhere… 

_…_

_Six years ago…_

_…_

_Fourteen… What an age to be. Most people were aware of everyone else's age, all except hers. Every one of her friends thought she was fifteen at the most, just shorter than average. She was put up a grade to further her motivation._

_Despite them being her senior by at least a few months at the least, she felt a hundred years older and wiser than the chatter of boy crazy lunatics. She felt like a princess in the company of poorly dressed beggars – which was the worst way to describe her._

_The school uniforms were nothing like her old, checkered dresses and cardigans. Instead, each girl had to wear a blue, pleated skirt which was so short, she might as well not be wearing one; a white blouse and long socks to go with leather shoes. And every boy had to have a plain, white shirt, tucked into navy blue pants, with matching shoes._

_There were a number of book freaks in the school, which were instantly labeled losers with their broken glasses and thick novels tucked under their arms. She, on the other hand, had luckily been befriended by a perky blonde who went by the name 'Kitty', when in reality it was Brianna. Snapped up immediately by some football playing jock on the very first day, she suddenly realized she had a boyfriend. The first of many…_

_Unlike most of the students who attended Pokemon Technical, she was granted a scholarship for outstanding knowledge at her previous school, which didn't have the expenses to cater for her intellect, instead of being just plain filthy rich. The experience of the sudden new location was a distant feeling to her. Instead of studying, her newfound friends were more interested in shopping and showing off their gorgeous figures in miniskirts and tight-fitting tube tops. _

_This new school didn't have a cafeteria, much to her surprise. Instead, it had a large courtyard and spacious grounds where nosy teachers aren't constantly hovering behind you. Jessie's group of friends covered two tables, with some opting to loll lazily in the low lying willow tree nearby. Last term, there were three tables, but one particular person had the audacity to spray it with deodorant and set it alight._

_And they didn't get a new one, sadly to say._

_It was a busy Thursday afternoon, her second week, and from the corner of her eye, she spotted a boy standing a fair distance from the table at which she sat. His satchel bearing the school emblem lay against his crumpled and dirtied uniform, his books ready to fall apart. One older guy rushed past him on a bike to whack the back of his head, causing him to drop his lunch. The guy slapped a high five with his friend who had scooped up one of his textbooks and was waving it in the air. Her friends laughed at the sight, yelling out unpleasant things all the while. _

_Sitting on the wooden table wearily with her eyes downcast, she suddenly felt a familiar arm wrap itself around her slender waist. "Hey princess…" She felt the warm breath of Shane send shivers down her spine. "What's wrong?" She lifted her head, but before she had time to reply, his tongue was in her mouth and she had already half squealed in surprise. She didn't have time to return the rough kiss and when he pulled away, she managed a weak smile. _

_"Umm…" she murmured, trailing her eyes to the boy. His eyes were glued on the tangled couple, but turned away to give them some privacy. She heard Shane growl beneath his breath and raise a fist slowly. "Shane…"_

_"No one stares at **my girlfriend," he uttered into her ears through clenched teeth. She winced away at the harshness of his voice, but when she felt him pull away, she instantly missed his warmth. **_

_When she lifted her head, all she could see was the back view of her boyfriend standing menacingly over the boy. Then, Shane raised a fist, and she heard his give a rather nasty threat to the little boy. Without a second thought, she narrowed her eyes and stomped angrily towards the beginnings of a typical schoolyard feud. In the distance, some of her friends crowed in laughter and even whooped in her flavor. She made a mental note to bash their heads in and scowled beneath her breath.  _

_"I swear," Shane growled menacingly, holding the boy by the collar of his T-shirt, pressing his back against the toilet block wall, "once I'm through with you, you'll have two extra noses and one less eye." The blue-haired boy with the skinny arms looked up at him with an expression that read sheer terror. _

_He gulped nervously and adverted his eyes to stare at the ground. His hand was ready to reach for his PokeBelt discreetly. If things got nasty, his Bellsprout would come in handy. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to ignore the stinging sensation in the back of his neck. It was only his second week at school and already he was being bullied. He felt horrible._

_Then, something happened. _

_"Shane. Put him down. Now."_

_It was more of a demand than a quiet request. Waiting a couple of seconds after feeling the pressure of Shane's hand slip away, he opened his eyes slowly to see a pair of polished leather shoes shining back at him. His green eyes trailed up her slender figure to meet eyes with the pretty redhead who saved him from a mighty beating. _

_"You okay?"  _

_"Yeah… I guess…"_

_"The name's Jessie."_

_"James."_

_"Cool. Wanna be friends?"_

_"Okay."_

_And so began the beginning of a wonderful relationship. _

The midnight blue eyes watched silently from the window sill as the girl on the bed sighed and played with a loose strand of hair. He hated seeing her like this. It was so… so… un-Jessie. Jessie doesn't mope around doing nothing all day, confused. Jessie takes things to the extreme, no matter what risks are involved. He frowned to himself and turned his stare to the open window.

He entered without a word, but he knew she could sense his every move. 

"James…" She looked up at him slowly and noticed that something had suddenly changed. "Your hair."

"I know…" He unconsciously put a hand to his once long, blue locks. "… It was a bit long for my liking." 

Instead of falling just above his shoulders, his azure hair now hung just behind his ears cleanly. The little wisp of hair that always dangled itself over the bridge of his nose remained, complementing him.

Jessie decided after a moment that it really did suit him, despite the fact that she was more than used to his neatly groomed tresses. She figured she'd get used to the concept after a while and quietly looked away without another word. 

Meowth, as well, was only mildly shocked at his change and kept his smartarsed opinions to himself.

There it is… Chapter two… I'm sorry it's so damn short – I couldn't help but end it there. 

: Dstny Fx


End file.
